rain (a mini-paragraph-per-theme kinda thing)
by Aranea Porcus
Summary: summary: this is exactly what it says on the lid - and it's about the 2 kids (not really) that I super shamelessly ship a lot, except legal, and in a modern alternate universe consisting of policemen and a strange surgeon. more info inside! : )


**hello friends i've taken a break from the hiatus year and am here again, writing about the same ship that i somehow managed to dedicate like 30 chapters' worth to**

**actually the true reason why im writing this is bc i have this au that i can't shake off but im too lazy to work a plot around it haha uh. it's a modern au (and also pretty disjointed); where zazie (22) lag (21) and connor (24) are neighbourhood policemen and thunderland jr (27) is a surgeon working in a hospital**

**note: i don't actually know the details of a surgeon/policeman's work life. am not aiming for accuracy here; please forgive me**

* * *

><p><span>angst<span>

he doesn't love him because he's rich, zazie keeps telling himself – he's not that superficial, and thunderland definitely has more to him than his coach wallet, but it's increasingly hard to find it between the seamless shirts and michelin restaurants that he constantly finds himself in. thunderland doesn't question him about it, not even when zazie's offers to split the bill are less than half-hearted or when he stops refusing the rolex watches; thunderland's not that kind of person, but it's fine either way because zazie has enough self-doubting for the both of them together.

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><p><span>au (an au of an au? this'll be in the original universe then)<span>

thunderland thinks that it's his fault, maybe, for not telling him (although the rational part of his mind says it was impossible anyway) and even though they're friends and zazie grew out of his hatred thunderland thinks it's a pity that it didn't happen in the way he wanted. the thoughts are hitting him hard now, when he looks out the window while sterilizing tools with hunt and when he sees zazie hold an umbrella over a girl who's still taller than he is. her ginger-red hair is parted into low ponytails and even though her hands are on her hips her smile is not lost in the dusty rain. this rain is acid and dirt, melting buildings and causing itches on skin, and thunderland's vision is clouded just as the lovers hold hands.

* * *

><p><span>(not related to this pairing but this is lag meeting sylvette for the first time over a Very Awkward Lunch)<span>

_there's gotta be something about this restaurant that starts all these fights_, lag thinks. he's sitting with gauche and sylvette, his sister, at a table, and while the siblings fight, voices rising above the pizza, lag can't help but spot an unhappy couple sulking about something, and a young mother struggling to keep her child from throwing his spoon across the room. _gauche is being posted to tokyo… _lag's drifting off before he's pulled back into the conversation by an exasperated sylvette.

"come on," she stresses. "surely you've got better things to do than to stay at our house and take care of _me_, right? tell 'im!"

"i trust him," gauche says, and even in this weird conversation lag feels a sense of pride well up in his chest. "he won't do anything—"

"that's not the point, brother! god!" sylvette huffs, and lag sighs inwardly. gauche often talks about his great relationship with his sister, but honestly, lag thinks that that might just be a thing of the past.

"if she doesn't want to be taken care of, then I can't do anything about it," lag tries to reason, and sylvette nods vigorously.

"I can't have you _alone!_" gauche whines. lag thinks, _I am so bored right now, oh my god._

lag rests his head on his hands, eyes watching the wall clock that's slowly ticking on the red brick wall that he's sitting opposite, as the siblings continue their argument, and there's a clang of a spoon being thrown across the room, coupled with a very loud sigh of a grumpy boyfriend. _there's definitely gotta be something about this restaurant, _lag thinks to himself, and he stifles an amused laugh. _definitely._

* * *

><p><span>darkfic<span>

thunderland (white suit, black shirt) stood just under the parapet, outside the venue of his boss (friend)'s grand dinner&dance – to celebrate their department's 80th anniversary or what not. it's raining, however unceremonial it might be for such an event, but the weather and the skies do not care for such trivial things such as dinner&dances. neither did thunderland, for that matter, but he'd missed the last one and so was roped in in such a manner that it was impossible to refuse.

thunderland spoke hastily into his phone. "i'm working late," he said into the speaker. "i really shouldn't be answering phone calls now."

on the other end, zazie was trying to persuade him to leave and go home, and thunderland really did feel guilty about lying but zazie was the reason why he had missed the last dinner – because zazie couldn't _ever_ stand to be alone because of what happened to his parents, and that was why he absolutely had to work with people and had to live with a cat and put up with a messy roommate and a lousy girlfriend back when he was still in college and that was why thunderland _couldn't_ just leave him there all by himself, _do you understand?_ of course thunderland understood. he always did; that was the unfortunate price of being the accommodating one.

"you're lying. don't lie to me," zazie said, tone accusatory, and thunderland paled slightly, a little frightened at how zazie might blow up like what thunderland had witnessed before. (It wasn't pretty – the wounds, physical or otherwise, needed six stitches and several plates were broken in the process.)

"i'm not," thunderland tried his best to sound reassuring, though he felt as though he was going to collapse into himself.

there was the rustle of clothing just behind him and the short warmth of a breath in his ear.

"you are."

* * *

><p><span>first time<span>

the first time they fight it's because zazie is being too cocky, apparently, by assuming that his way is the best way (not that it isn't) and by refusing to admit defeat at any given point in time. actually the reason why zazie was late for dinner in the first place was because of the traffic and not the pre-dinner, post-work canned beer (it was from a fucking vending machine behind the station, for pete's sake), therefore it wasn't his fault and there was no need to apologize. thunderland's shouting at him now, voice loud and imposing, outside the restaurant and in the cold rain, and he's calling him childish and oh – zazie knows he is, but it's not like he's not going to admit it anytime soon, is he?

* * *

><p><span>fluff (abit gross haha sorry)<span>

there's not much to do on their days off together even though they're few and far between - both of them are too old for aquariums and zoos and zazie always watches movies with the rest of his coworkers (thunderland isn't one for movies anyway), and so whenever those lucky days arrive they almost always lie down in either of their living rooms watching kid's cartoons on tv like overgrown children.

"i always wonder why pikachu never wanted to evolve," zazie says absent-mindedly, body slumped over the coffee table. the both of them sit on a futon with their legs stretched out under the coffee table (he doesn't own a sofa), and in the silence preceding thunderland's reply zazie plays with their fingers.

"didn't they give him that whatever stone?" thunderland says, just as jessie and james haul up several pokemon in a net with their hot air balloon.

"yeah, but if i were him i'd take any chance to get stronger. it's kind of stupid, I think."

thunderland makes a brief noncommittal noise, and zazie entwines their fingers.

"i like team rocket, actually," thunderland says. "they never give up, ever."

"they care for each other a lot."

"yeah."

the late morning sunlight filters in from zazie's window and he yawns lazily, stretching and clenching his hands. thunderland brings his lips to zazie's closed eyes, and zazie shakes him off in surprise, and asks, "what's that for?"

thunderland shrugs. "it felt appropriate."

zazie pauses then laughs, like he's tickled by the idea that thunderland adores him enough to kiss him on places besides his lips. he lets go of thunderland's hands, and the ending theme starts just as he tosses his arms around the other's neck to pulls him close, the short hairs of his stubble roughly brushing against thunderland's cheek. at this point, thunderland thinks that maybe, flowers might just be appropriate now, too.

* * *

><p><span>futurefic<span>

"hey, let me get this straight - tell your girl to keep off my son, alright? he's got no time to be playing around girls like—"

"girls like mine? hey, for your information it's _your_ son who won't leave my daughter alone, alright?!"

"sunny's really worried about this too, you know? our jeremy is a good boy and yours-yours isn't even—!"

"you bastard! take that back right now!" zazie's shouting expletives into his phone, face steaming hot, and somewhere behind him there's a tired sigh from thunderland who's just finished pulling their eight-year-old daughter's ginger-red hair into a tight ponytail. he walks over and takes the phone out of zazie's vice grip. after a momentary pause the voice over the phone changes to the gentle voice of a woman instead of a man, and zazie huffs as thunderland walks off into another room.

it's been a few minutes and zazie's just finished sending her off for school with an umbrella (the skies are turning grey), not before glowering in what he hopes was a subtle manner at the round-faced boy who meets her at the door of their flat, _goddamnit_, when thunderland re-appears out of nowhere and puts the phone back.

"none of us are going to talk to anyone's kids."

_("...i don't think your dad likes me very much."_

_"nah, just leave him alone. he's just being a pain.")_

* * *

><p><span>hurtcomfort  
><span>it's an occupational hazard, thunderland knows, but this-this was a _child_ who died at his hands, _damn it!_ there's a downpour right now, thunderous and angry, as if the heavens are furious at being sent an innocent soul from the body of a six-year old. it's not like there hasn't been the rare death at his operating table before, but they've all had extremely slim chances even before going under the knife, but for this one—thunderland thinks maybe if he'd moved quicker, or controlled the bleeding... he holds his head in his hands, hunched over, not looking up when the door to his apartment opens with a soft click and the tinkling of a bell, accompanied by the padding of kitten paws that scamper across his carpeted floor.

"what's up?" zazie says, softer than usual and without expecting a reply, and thunderland kind of wants him to stop talking right away and just leave. a hand brushes across his shoulder and a weight sinks into the sofa beside him, and thunderland's fingers curl into his skin. zazie rubs circles into his shoulders while thunderland trembles with the strain of trying not to let zazie see his tears.

later in the night zazie watches thunderland's deft fingers hold a knife and carve out something that looks like a wooden star, and thunderland's the one who brings it up first.

* * *

><p><span>smut<span> (haha)

under the cover of darkness, fingers dance across shoulder blades and milky legs. hurried words are whispered across the vast oceans of their skin, but they are often lost on the wind and in the quiet, unable to form coherent sentences before they are hushed by kisses. like this, their minds and hearts and hands are always together, and when they embrace on the damp sheets in a mess of limbs and hair, their sky is velvet, dotted with stars.

* * *

><p><span>ust (unresolved sexual tension)<span>

thunderland's just sat down at the desk in the station when zazie comes running in, hair mussed and wet from the downpour, and even though thunderland's hungry and has his boxed lunch out in front of him there's suddenly _so many_ more interesting things to look at - namely the droplets of water that drip down his neck and how the navy blue uniform sticks to his waist and his chest in all the right places, and how he unbuttons the first two buttons on his uniform even as connor starts chattering about being professional (undershirt is white in colour) and thunderland is off daydreaming again, thinking of things like _quick, arrest me now; do it now_ and other equally embarrassing phrases. "ah," is the only thing he can say when zazie finally regards him, and thunderland finds it exceedingly difficult to keep his eyes from straying to zazie's collarbones. soon after zazie asks why he's blinking so furiously and thunderland really, _really_ has no answer.

* * *

><p><strong>there we go. now i guess ill be returning to my study-filled hole...?<strong>

**truthfully i have roles and everything for everyone in this au, like moc sullivan is kind of like their 'superintendent' in a sense, lag's mum left to become an international super spy, and connor eventually marries sunny (don't gasp; yall saw it coming these 2 are gold) and they have a kid and hunt is thunderland jr's unpaid intern and largo is his boss and—! if it interests any of you and if you want me to write more stuff in this au hit me up man. and i will get round to it...eventually. once the year is done. ****see you!**


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